Mistakes and Daffodils
by BroadwayStarletQueen
Summary: (Pre-Valentine's Day Episode) Kurt and Rachel find a surprise in their apartment on February 14th. Romantic gestures or not, is Kurt ready to forgive?


**Hi, guys! I wrote this before the Valentine's Day episode, so I realize it's not exactly canon. But I hope you enjoy anyway! Klaine forever and always, come what may.  
**

* * *

"The Valentine's Day Special at Cynthia's Smoothies is to _die_ for," Kurt said as he greedily sipped his strawberry smoothie. "Who needs boys on February 14th—frozen fruit is all we need, right?"

Rachel giggled into her matching smoothie, playing with the swirly straw. "You might have a point. I could start a relationship with this drink right now."

"You could take it out on Friday night. Buy it coffee."

"Better not get it a hot beverage. It might cheat on me."

The two best friends snorted into their pink drinks, arm in arm down Lexington and 60th Street. The only signs of the coming holiday were in the store windows they passed, decked out in red and lace. Otherwise, New York in February was slushy, chilly, and largely unromantic.

Kurt Hummel tried to ignore the cupids dangling from storefront windows and swallowed down an aching heart. He was a sucker for Valentine's Day, always had been. When he was six, he designed vintage valentines for his first grade class. He always decorated his locker at school. He spent the short month dreaming of romantic gestures and watching cheesy 80s movies.

But this year, he was trying to make it to the 28th without any romantic contact. Rachel, even though she was technically (maybe? possibly?) with Brody, would be his date for Valentine's Day this year.

"So," Rachel began, awkwardly swinging her smoothie from hand to hand, "why do you say that?"

"Say what?"

" 'Who needs boys'?"

"Oh," Kurt hummed. "I dunno."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "You don't know? What about Adam? I lent you my _Yentl_ DVD—that is first date gold!"

"Rachel, my dear, no one thinks that _Yentl_ is a good date movie."

"Barbra's sexual tension with Mandy Patinkin is the single most romantic—"

"Rachel."

"Sorry." Rachel rolled her eyes, trying to contain her inner Streisand. Two years ago, she would have smacked the smoothie out of her best friend's hand for interrupting her Barbra monologue, but New York had mellowed her out significantly. "Seriously, Kurt, what happened with Adam?"

"Ugh, I don't know." Kurt paused, trying to find the right words. "We went out for dinner, we saw a movie, we went for a walk—it was the traditional first date. And when he walked me home and we were at the door, we kissed, but that was it. I didn't feel butterflies and I didn't see fireworks. I just felt bored."

"Hmm. Maybe he's just not the right one for you. At least you gave it a shot."

"We kind of just stopped texting. He's great and all, but maybe I need to be alone right now. Maybe that's best."

"It's definitely possible." Rachel took a deep breath before casually introducing the next subject. "So…have you heard from Blaine recently?"

Kurt's face hardened. "No."

"He just went to the Sadie Hawkins dance at McKinley, with Tina."

"That's nice."

"They just went as friends."

"_I know_."

Rachel grinned. "How'd you know if you haven't heard from him?"

"I might have…called him…two days ago." Kurt groaned. "We _are _still trying to be friends."

She reached for his hand and started swinging their entwined mittens together. "I know, Kurt. I'm just worried about you. As your best friend, it is my right and duty to alert you when I think you're unhappy and need guidance."

"As your best friend, I have the right and duty to tell you to butt out."

"Hear me out—you've tried being friends with Blaine, but it's not going as well as you'd hoped, because he's still clearly nuts about you. And you have feelings for him. Maybe this is just a stepping stone to making your relationship stronger."

"What relationship?" Kurt cried, exasperated. "There is no relationship, and I don't want there to be one. That's the hopeless romantic in you, Rachel—you think everything is just a dramatic scene leading up to Epic Love and Happily Ever After, but that's not how life really works."

"Untrue! I know how life really works! Besides, in _Yentl_, the dramatic scene leads to a couple in love being separated forever. Not exactly 'Epic Love.' "

"I don't want Blaine anymore. At least, I think I don't. But I'm not happy just being friends, and I hate ignoring him." Kurt sighed. "I'm doomed."

Rachel gave him an encouraging kiss on the cheek, whispering, "Happy Valentine's Day, bestie," and led the forlorn boy up to their apartment in Bushwick—an apartment they expected to see in a fair amount of clutter and homey disarray, with sheet music and swaths of fabric draped over chairs.

Instead, they unlocked the door to find their studio apartment covered in huge vases of flowers, covering every flat surface.

"Whoa," Kurt breathed.

"Whoa," Rachel echoed, rushing in. She lifted a cluster of flowers to her nose. "This is amazing! This is really amazing!"

Kurt pulled his friend away from the flowers, ignoring the fresh, sweet smell that permeated the air. "Rachel, focus—someone broke into our house, and while admittedly covering it in flowers isn't exactly a crime, we don't know if that someone is still here!"

"What are they going to do? Drug the flowers?"

"Maybe!"

Rachel blew some hair out of her eyes. "_Think_, Kurt. We keep an extra key under the doormat—"

"A practice we will have to discontinue."

"—and look at the flowers! Just look!" She picked up a smaller vase and pointed out the different blossoms. "White tulips, daffodils, and hyacinths. Do you know what that means?"

"The burglar likes contrasting but intriguing color combinations?"

"No, silly," she smiled. "I read _The Language of Flowers_ in 3rd grade and had it memorized—I was going to turn the definitions into an avant-garde monologue. Tulips, daffodils, and hyacinths, in Victorian flower language, mean forgiveness."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "So which one of us is forgiven?"

"No, Kurt, these flowers are asking for forgiveness!" Rachel checked her memory. "I can't think of any major screw-ups Brody would have to apologize for. I think it's clear that these are for you. Who do you think it was? Did Adam make you upset?"

Kurt's gaze had gone glassy, ignoring his friend's chatter while he surveyed the beautiful blooms. Daffodils peeped their heads over the kitchen counters and spilled out of the cabinets. Tulips stood firmly on their coffee table. Hyacinths hung in clusters around their couch.

He pulled out his phone, took a picture, and sent the text to someone he thought had to be several states away.

-_Was this you?_

It buzzed immediately back.

-_Happy Valentine's Day, Kurt_.

Kurt frowned, his breath getting shallow, and Rachel put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "I think I'll make some coffee," she said quietly. "That is, if I can step around the flowers."

-_How did you get in? How did you afford all these flowers?_

_-Spare key, silly. You showed it to me at Christmas. And did I tell you I got a job at Breadstix?_

_-Blaine, this is too much. I don't even know what to say._

_-You don't have to say anything. Do you like the flowers?_

_-Of course I like them. I love them. I just don't know what you want._

Kurt stared at his phone and waited for a response as Rachel hummed Ethel Merman tunes around their kitchen, occasionally knocking into a pile of flowers.

Finally, five full minutes later, a message came back.

_-I want you to know that someone is thinking of you on Valentine's Day, even if that someone isn't…with you. I wanted you to smile._

In spite of himself, Kurt did smile—widely, with a ghost of a laugh playing at the edges of his lips. Still, his confusion and shock prevailed.

_-Rachel says the flowers mean forgiveness._

_-You know I'll never stop asking for it. You don't have to give it to me, but at least I'm sure you know how sorry I am._

_-This doesn't change anything. We're just friends now. Nothing more._

_-I know._

Kurt bit his lip.

_-Where are you?_

_-Central Park, at the Fountain. Surprise!_

_-You idiot, you don't go to Central Park alone at night! I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't move._

Kurt snapped his phone off and wheeled right back out the door. "I'm going out. Don't wait up!"

* * *

He was there, miraculously safe, with his hands in his pockets and a red plaid scarf around his neck that Kurt made note of.

"Plaid is so last year," he announced, plopping down next to his ex-boyfriend. Blaine jumped in surprise, but relaxed into a shining, triumphant smile. "Crocodile skin is back."

"As stylish as crocodile skin is, it wouldn't make a very effective scarf. I'm trying a traditional, homey, lumberjack look," Blaine joked with a goofy grin. "I can't believe you came."

"You must have spent thousands on those flowers, and on a ticket up here, and you have nowhere to stay. Of course I came."

"I'm actually leaving in an hour," Blaine said sadly. "I didn't think I'd have a place to stay, so it was more of a quick ninja trip. Get flowers, get in, get going. So you wouldn't have time to argue with me."

Kurt mused on that for a bit. "I could argue with you now."

"No one's stopping you."

"Why did you get me flowers?"

"I technically got them for Rachel, too—there's a bouquet of red roses on her bed. Figured she'd like that."

"_Blaine_," he repeated himself, "why did you get me flowers?"

Blaine twiddled his thumbs. "I'm asking for forgiveness."

"I gave it to you months ago."

"Not really. Not that I don't appreciate it!" Blaine insisted. "But you haven't forgiven me in your heart, as cheesy as that sounds. You're just saying that you do so you don't have to think about it anymore. And I'm not asking you to forgive me there because I know…it's too much. But I can't stop trying, not for a minute."

"I know." Kurt stared at the fountain, slowed down to a trickle at this hour. "I believe you, you know. Those feelings don't just go away. They haven't for me."

A small smile remained on Blaine's face. "Yeah?"

"Oh, Blaine. You already know I still love you. I just don't know how to be with you. I don't…want to be with you anymore. At least not now. Maybe not ever."

"Maybe," he repeated. "I can live with maybe. It could mean possible."

"What would Sam have to say to that? Or Tina? Whoever you like these days."

"I don't have a crush on either—I've actually been using Sam as a sort of excuse. Everyone at McKinley wants me to move on, so I figured if I 'had a crush' on someone who couldn't return those feelings, people would leave me alone about getting back into the dating game."

Kurt tried to hide his brief sigh of relief. "Hmm." He was suddenly seized by a desire to do something stupid, and since it was Valentine's Day and Blaine was here and he was still in love with Blaine and very confused and the slightest bit tipsy from the cloying scent of tulips and daffodils, he went with it.

He reached for Blaine's hands, leaned in, and kissed him. Sweetly, with the slightest pinch of pain in the back of his head. Blaine reciprocated instantly, cradling Kurt's face in his left hand, and when they broke away, he had the most beautiful, dazed look on his face.

Kurt was quick to apologize. "I'm sorry. I—"

"No, no, no, don't be sorry."

"I didn't, um…"

"Yeah, I know. It's okay."

The boys sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the tingling phantom sensation of lips on their own sink in.

Kurt was the first person to make a move, again—he leaned back in and cupped Blaine's face, fingers tracing the lines on his temples and smoothing away an errant strand of dark hair. "We should just be friends."

"Yep. Amigos," Blaine breathed back, barely above a whisper.

"So. Friend," Kurt addressed him, nipping gently at Blaine's mouth, "want to make out on this bench for a few more minutes?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes."

"Thank _goodness_."


End file.
